Silver
by Cyclone
Summary: Reposted from Spacebattles. Taylor does not trigger in the locker. Instead, she awakens to the memories and abilities of her past life. As a Sorcerer 10/Dragon Disciple 10 from Pathfinder. See the Spacebattles or Sufficient Velocity thread for the character sheet.
1. Wyrmling 1-1

**Silver**  
 _Wyrmling 1.1_

My name in this life is Taylor Hebert.

It's sometimes hard to remember that.

The last time I was fifteen years old, I hadn't even started my career. Gods, I had barely awakened the power that flowed within my veins. The next forty years after that had been quite the adventure, easily enough to eclipse a life of comparatively comfortable monotony. It also put the bullying in perspective.

It was hard to feel hurt by mere taunts when you'd been on the receiving end of words that could _literally_ kill. It was hard to feel betrayed by words when you remembered a betrayal that had come with an _actual_ dagger in the back.

Take the latest attempt the trio had made to try and bother me. Juice. Really? I rolled my eyes and played along, but once they were gone, I gestured at my soiled clothing and possessions.

" _Prestidigitation_."

* * *

The trio looked puzzled when I returned to class after lunch, apparently untouched, but I ignored them. With _prestidigitation_ and an _arcane lock_ on my bookbag, there was literally nothing they could do to me short of physical assault. A faint smile crossed my face as I considered that.

Brokk had been a half-orc, a bit bloodthirsty but a good man. He had once told me that the worst insult an enemy could suffer was to be ignored. Once, I might have argued with that.

But he was right. I had other plans. In the end, the trio was irrelevant.

* * *

As I looked down once again at what passed for my costume - a hooded cloak, a simple mask, a leotard, and some tights - I once again cursed whoever crafted that orb of resurrection. It was _supposed_ to resurrect me at the moment I died, _with_ my gear, not strand me in a reincarnation a world away with no sign of my equipment.

Well, there was nothing for it now.

I suppose I could have joined the Wards, but if there was one thing I learned as a professional adventurer, it was that reputation mattered. Starting at the bottom without a decent rep meant getting the shit jobs, and I did _not_ have the patience for that.

I was not expecting to run into Lung on my first night. Inexplicably, I smiled. I'd slain a few dragons in my time, and it was always an exhilirating experience. Lung was definitely a red, and the silver in my veins practically sang out to destroy him.

Still, I'd heard the rumors. I knew his rep. While taking him down would be an awesome debut, I wasn't sure I was ready to face him. I needed some time to shake the rust off skills that had last been used literally a lifetime ago.

I was about to withdraw when I began to sort through his accent.

"...the children, just shoot. Doesn't matter your aim, just shoot. You see one lying on the ground? Shoot the little bitch twice more to be sure. We give them no chances to be clever or lucky, understand?"

They were going to kill _kids_?

That called for a change of plans.

I moved to the edge of the roof until I had a clear line of sight. Lung was the main threat, but the rest of his men were armed.

" _Protection from arrows_."

In addition to the _mage armor_ I had already cast when I had first set out that night, that would further blunt the effects of gunfire, which meant I could now focus on Lung.

" _True strike_ ," I murmured. I couldn't allow myself to miss. I had one chance to put him down. " _Polar ray_."

Guided by magic, my aim was true, and Lung dropped to the ground, unmoving. His men turned. Some panicked and ran, but others opened fire at my rooftop vantage point.

The air around me rippled as bullets struck the shield around me.

" _Sleet storm_."

The effect was instantaneous, the microstorm dropping sleet and freezing rain down on the Azn Bad Boys, eventually driving them away.

I smirked, then turned as I heard loud thumps landing on the roof behind me.

Three creatures stood on the rooftop with me. They looked something like the abominations that one necromancer up north had cobbled together. Two of them had two riders each. I watched as the people slid off the backs of the animals. There were two girls, a guy, and a fourth I identified as male only because of the height. The tall one approached me, while the others hurried to the edge of the roof to look at my handiwork.

"You really saved us a lot of trouble," he said, holding a hand out. I declined to take it.

"Holy shit."

We both turned to look. One the girls - a blonde dressed in a skintight outfit of black and some other dark color I couldn't quite make out in the darkness - was staring at me, wide-eyed.

"You _killed_ Lung," she said.

I blinked, then shook my head. "No," I said. "That's... not possible."

Granted, _polar ray_ was one of my powerful attack spells, but rumor had it, Lung had fought an _Endbringer_ to a standstill. My _polar ray_ only had maybe a 50/50 shot of even bringing down a mere _juvenile_ red dragon.

"First night out, huh?" the girl said as she and her companions regrouped with the tall one. "Underestimated your powers? Accidents happen, I suppose."

I looked down at Lung. Or his corpse, I guess. That... wasn't good. While it was definitely one hell of a boost to my rep... would the Wards accept someone who had _killed_ someone, even by accident?

"Shit," the girl spoke up again, and I looked over. "She's a _hero_."

Why would that-? My eyes widened in realization.

"And she's just figured out we're villains."

Suddenly, darkness flooded out from the tall one.

" _True seeing_. _Web_." The girl who had been speaking had slipped avoided the entangling snare, but my eyes darted over to the three creatures as they turned and snarled at me. I didn't have the right hold or charm spell to stop all three of them before one of them munched on me. " _Fear_."

As the three monsters ran off, I turned to the last girl. I raised my hands again, a _magic missile_ on my lips... when she spun, held her hands up, and squeaked, "I surrender!"

* * *

A/N: Her _polar ray_ deals 17d6+17 damage (anywhere from 34 to 119 damage, with an average of 76.5 damage). For comparison, a Barrett M82A1 "Light Fifty" or M2HB Browning heavy machine gun - both chambered in the .50 BMG round - deals 2d12 damage (between 2 and 24 damage, with an average of 13 damage), and an M72A3 LAW deals 10d6 damage (anywhere from 10 to 60 damage, with an average of 35). It's been said a few times that baseline Lung could be sniped. He just ate an attack that does, at its minimum, nearly half again as much damage as an anti-materiel rifle's maximum damage.


	2. Wyrmling 1-2

**Silver**  
 _Wyrmling 1.2_

The _web_ spell wasn't going to wear off any time soon, but it wasn't what I'd call "inescapable." Still, I couldn't exactly just wait around, watching them in the hopes that the authorities would show up, and the usual procedure from my past life - kill them and loot the bodies - was rather frowned upon here.

I sighed. No choice, then.

I looked at the one who had surrendered and gestured to the webbing ensnaring her companions. "Get over there," I said. She hesitated, then nodded and complied.

"You know," she said, "Armsmaster already on his way. You don't need to-"

" _Wall of stone_."

Like I was going to believe an admitted villain who had every reason to lie to me. Despite the spell's name, I could shape it however I wanted, and it was a simple matter to craft a dome covering them all; if any of them had had Brute or Mover powers get out from that, the webbing wouldn't have held them to begin with. Satisfied, I took a moment to take stock, trying to figure out where I could find a phone, but while I was still orienting myself, I heard a motorcycle approaching.

I crouched as the vehicle continued its approach.

So, she was telling the truth after all.

Armsmaster got off the motorcycle and approached Lung's body cautiously, holding his signature halberd out warily. He bent over and checked the body.

"I may have overdone it," I said, "but in my defense, I heard him talking about killing children."

Armsmaster spun, holding his halberd up as I hopped down to street level, using my wings to slow myself down. Did I mention I have wings? Well, I do. They retract into my back, which is why I went with a backless leotard.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I..." I paused as I withdrew my wings. "I'm Silverheart." Eluithol Ornkornari had been my name in that other world; it was Draconic. Faith Silverheart in Common. And English, I suppose.

He glanced back at Lung's body. "You killed Lung?"

"By accident," I said. "I mean, it's my first night out - I'm not crazy! - but I overheard him ordering his men to kill children. I-I couldn't just stand by, but he's got a reputation, so I... figured I'd hit him with my strongest attack, and... well..." I shrugged.

He frowned and looked thoughtful.

"Turns out," I plowed on, "he was talking about some teen supervillains." I pointed to the roof. "I've got them trapped up there. Four of them, including a darkness creator, and they also had some freaky giant monsters. Unless they can break through four inch-thick solid stone, they aren't going anywhere."

He nodded in recognition. "Sounds like the Undersiders." He paused. "So you're telling me you killed Lung and captured the Undersiders... single-handedly? On your first night out?"

"Kinda? Yeah?"

He worked his jaw for a long moment. "It's obvious you have a very strong power," he said finally, "and control is often an issue for new parahumans. It's why we have the Wards program. While what happened here is... understandable, given your inexperience" - I bristled at that; I probably had more adventuring experience than he did! Granted, that was a past life, but still! - "and the fact that it was Lung, there would still need to be an investigation, and if it happens again..."

He trailed off. I got the message. Still, this was exactly the kind of rep boost I had started the night looking for.

"And if I were to join the Wards?" I asked.

He seemed to relax a bit, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing I wanted was to be labeled a villain.


	3. Wyrmling 1-3

**Silver**  
 _Wyrmling 1.3_

It took some time to get the paperwork finished up. I had to tell Dad, of course, but when he found out I _accidentally_ killed Lung, he was all for it. I guess he was worried what other accidents I might have if I didn't learn to control my powers.

It was only the one time, damn it, and can you really blame me for overestimating _Lung_ of all people?

Armsmaster was friendly enough, but his words rang a little hollow, like he was putting on a show. I wasn't sure if that was real - reading people was a skill I'd picked up in my past life - or if I was projecting. Miss Militia seemed genuine with her offer to listen if I ever wanted to talk about it.

The meeting with the Wards was... odd. Aegis led me there, and... well...

"It's so good to have another girl on the team," Vista gushed. "And no, Shadow Stalker doesn't count."

Most of the team was there, but not all. I wasn't comfortable unmasking yet, though, especially with the way Gallant stood apart from the rest, back to the wall. I got the feeling he was watching me.

"Sooo, 'Silverheart,'" Clockblocker said, dragging out the name I'd given Armsmaster, the name that had become my cape name, "what's with the name?"

I merely smiled enigmatically beneath my domino mask. I could do enigmatic. I had had a lot of practice.

"Welcome to the team," Kid Win said. "I'm Kid Win, or Chris out of costume." He went around with the introductions. "Always good to have a new Ward on the team."

"Probationary," I reminded him as I shook his hand.

"Probationary?" Vista - Missy - echoed with a frown.

I shrugged and nodded. No point in hiding it. "Yeah, excessive force."

"Oh." The young veteran pouted. "Another Shadow Stalker."

"Someone say my name?"

I looked over and saw the crossbow-wielding Ward. She leaned inside a doorway, a little standoffish, arms folded. Like me, she had her mask on. "I guess?" I said. "You on probation too?"

"Yeah," the other girl said. "Excessive force. Put a few bolts in some skinheads who didn't appreciate it. You?"

"I, uh, sort of... accidentally killed someone my first night out," I admitted.

Except for Aegis, who already knew; Gallant, who seemed determined to maintain his statue impersonation on the far side of the room; and Shadow Stalker, the other Wards recoiled away from me at that revelation. I couldn't see Shadow Stalker's face through her mask, but her body language told me I'd struck a nerve.

Interesting.

Aegis clapped a hand on my shoulder. "That's why we have the Wards program, Silverheart, so we can better learn to control our powers."

Shrugging it off, I added, "Hey, in my defense, Lung _was_ talking about killing kids. How was I supposed to know he was talking about the Undersiders?"

You could almost hear a pin drop after that.

Perhaps I shouldn't have said that? No, this was the whole point of going solo for a bit: establish a rep.

Clockblocker walked up to me and grabbed my shoulders.

"Let me get this straight," he said. "You killed Lung."

"Uh huh." I nodded.

"By _accident_."

I nodded again.

"On your first night out."

"You're three for three."

"Any other amazing claims you'd care to make?"

"I also brought in the Undersiders that night," I offered.

Clockblocker pulled back and wheeled on Aegis. "Okay, Carlos, you've had your fun."

"No," Aegis said, shaking his head. "It's all true. Armsmaster briefed me. She took down Lung, accidentally killing him in the process, then took down the Undersiders, all before he got there."

"That's pretty impressive." I looked back over at Shadow Stalker at that. "You attacked the toughest cape in the city, and you took him down." She reached up and pulled her mask off. "I'm-"

"Sophia."

She blinked. "You know me?"

"Oh, wow, yeah," I said, pulling off my own mask. "Hello, Sophia."

She visibly blanched when she recognized me, and she took a step back. " _Hebert?!_ "

I grinned. "You have no idea how glad I am to see that you're a Ward." She stopped her retreat, obviously confused, but still wary.

The weird thing was, I meant it. Distantly, I knew this should piss me off - would have, before my past life awakened - but honestly, I'd already determined the trio were... utterly inconsequential to me. They literally did not matter to me any more than city walls mattered to a dragon.

There was something off about that analogy somewhere..

"You're... happy to see me?" she asked, clearly baffled.

"Of course!" I assured her. "I was really worried about how closely they'd monitor me and restrict my actions, what with the whole probation thing, but given everything you got away with doing to me, including trying to murder me back in January? Obviously, it can't be that bad."

The room fell silent again.

"What?"

* * *

Elsewhere...

A portal opened.

"You sure this is the right place, wizard?"

"For the fifth time, Brokk, _yes_. This is definitely the correct material plane."

"Both of you, shut up. We still need to _find_ her."

"Oh, come on. How hard could she be to find?"

* * *

A/N: Just for clarification, Taylor has the memories and abilities of a level 20 Pathfinder character. By around level 9 or 10, death becomes merely a costly inconvenience.


	4. Wyrmling 1-4

**Silver**  
 _Wyrmling 1.4_

Right. No clerics. _Raise dead_ and _resurrection_ aren't available here. I'll have to remember that. That's the sort of detail that gets people perma-dead.

Remembering that made me a little more annoyed at the trio, but honestly?

"You're beneath me," I answered Sophia, rolling my eyes. We'd both gotten grilled over my little slip. Sophia had had her phone confiscated and was now confined to base while the PRT conducted an investigation.

I looked over at her and elaborated, "Even _before_ I triggered, from the very beginning, it took _how_ many of you ganging up on little old me before you had the guts to do anything? Seriously, do you have any idea how pathetic that looks from where I'm sitting? The fact that you were a cape the whole time just makes you even _more_ of a coward."

Like I said, I was a _little_ annoyed. A bit of verbal needling seemed appropriate.

She let out a wordless snarl and lunged at me.

" _Jolt_." The little spark was mild - I would barely feel it - but it sent her to the ground screaming. I blinked. "I have _got_ to stop overestimating people."

* * *

I got a reprimand for zapping Sophia, but since it was clearly self-defense, they gave me a proverbial slap on the wrist. Of course, the fact that a Ward spent a year and half making my life hell for shits and giggles - including several months _after_ she joined under probationary terms, during which she was supposedly monitored - and then crowned it off with, well, the locker...

Well, that worth more than a few points in my favor. There was nothing quite like having a powerful organization by the short hairs.

"Our preliminary investigations into Miss Hess's actions have been completed," the director said, glaring at both of us from behind her desk, "and we already have ample proof that she has violated her parole. She will be remanded to juvenile detention by the end of the week."

Sophia bristled, but before she could respond, I raised my hand. "Is that really necessary?" I asked. "I mean, it's going to be quite a mess if someone sees through whatever cover story you put together for why Shadow Stalker gets benched."

"What do you propose?" Piggot asked, eyes narrowed. "I cannot simply dismiss the evidence-"

"So 'misplace' it and let me have it," I suggested with a shrug. "If she acts up again, we can just conveniently 'find' it again, and who would ever guess that her victim would help cover it all up?" I reached over to ruffle Sophia's hair, but she ducked away. "After all, I can keep her in line, and we can always use another living decoy. With her power, she won't even die from it! Probably."

"You're _insane_ , Hebert," Sophia hissed.

I looked at her and pouted. " _I'm_ insane? I'm not the one who got her rocks off torturing someone for the hell of it for a year and a half. I'm not the one who chose to befriend and trust a treacherous bitch with no loyalty to her friends. A neutral evil backstabber is a neutral evil backstabber." I paused. "Okay, so I did befriend her, but it's not like I knew what she was like at the time. What's your excuse?"

They both stared at me.

"What?"

* * *

A/N: Taylor has 162 hit points (maximum 6 on first hit die, average of 3.5 each on 9d6 hit dice, average of 6.5 each on 10d6 hit dice, +40 for a +2 Constitution bonus, +20 for Toughness, rounding down the extra 0.5). Jolt does 1d3 electrical damage. Fun fact? So does a stun gun, what Wildbow refers to as a taser. Yes, I'm applying game mechanics to at least some degree. Even setting aside the piddly little natural armor bonus (+2, which translates to a 10% chance of any attack just bouncing off, regardless of how much damage it does), she's _absurdly_ durable to the point she could easily shrug off getting shot by a couple of M72A3 LAWs (which do 10d6 damage; even at maximum damage, it would take three of them to kill her). Can you tell I'm not taking this seriously?


	5. Wyrmling 1-5

**Silver**  
 _Wyrmling 1.5_

Power testing was annoying and exhausting and left me with far fewer spell slots than I was used to to face the rest of the day. I suppose I could understand why they wouldn't take my word on what my spells could do, given the, um, _calibration_ problems I had.

Seriously, who goes down to a single _jolt_ casting? That was the realm of commoners and _really squishy_ neophyte adventurers, and from what I understood, Sophia had been out doing the vigilante thing for _years_. It didn't make any sense.

They'd given me Blaster, Changer, Brute, Mover, and Shaker ratings before throwing their hands up and slapping a Trump 8 on me. Which was strange. I figured I would have been rated higher; from the guidelines I'd read, _greater teleport_ made me a Mover 9 all by itself. Oh, well. That kept my rating low enough that at least I wouldn't have to worry about intercity missiles. That's apparently a thing when you hit rating 9.

Anyway, it seemed the PRT was _really_ interested in _scrying_ and _greater teleport_. No surprise there. It was a good combo, despite its limitations. "Scry and die" was a classic for a reason.

Also, while the investigation was still underway, Sophia apparently wasn't considered a flight risk, so she was free to go back to school with me. Something about the way she went pale when I explained how the whole "scry and die" tactic would work, I guess.

Did she really not get how little I cared about her? If she'd stop attacking me, I wouldn't keep zapping her. She certainly wasn't worth burning both a fourth circle and a seventh circle spell slot to take revenge if she _did_ run.

As I returned to school, I noticed Sophia intercepting Emma, whispering furiously. Curious, I listened in. The talents and skills I'd honed in that past life were practically enough to count as a parahuman power on their own.

"What the hell is this about, Sophia?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Hebert's a cape. She overestimated fucking _Lung_ and accidentally killed him. With one fucking shot. You want to commit suicide, that's your choice, but count me out."

"If she was that strong, why didn't she ever fight back?"

"Does a lion fight back against a couple of ants?"

I sighed and walked over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck..."

"Sophia," I said patiently, "didn't you sign a nondisclosure agreement? You know I'm going to have to report this."

"Uh, right, sure," she said hurriedly. "You're absolutely right. You do need to report this. Disciplinary action is certainly called for here."

I rolled my eyes. Honestly. It was like she was _trying_ to get tossed into juvie. "Also, are you _trying_ to out me? If you two let up on the bullying, people will _notice_." Sophia's eyes went wide as saucers. I smiled and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I won't hold it against you. I promise."

With that, I turned and walked away.

"Fucking lion baring her teeth," she grumbled.

* * *

A/N: In linear systems, there is a point where pure skill reaches the absurd. Level 20 isn't fully past that point yet, since she can't balance on air or convince someone actively trying to kill her to be her best friend. Still, Taylor has a +24 Perception check modifier, which means that, on an average roll of 10, she can hear a whispered conversation from 190 feet away (base DC 15 + 1/10 feet distance).


	6. Interlude 1A - The Paladin

**Silver**  
 _Interlude 1A - The Paladin_

He really didn't know what to make of the new girl. His empathic sense wasn't picking up _anything_ off of her, which was strange in and of itself. The fact that she'd accused Sophia of trying to murder her hadn't helped either. Sophia was a colossal bitch, granted, but she was _their_ colossal bitch, and she certainly hadn't seemed psychotic.

Still... now that he thought about it, there were a few times he'd picked up an errant emotion from her that were... questionable, at best. Not enough to make him suspicious, but enough to make him wonder. Sophia's own reaction to the accusation - and the spike of guilt that came with it - was proof enough for Dean that she'd done _something_ to the poor, mad girl.

The fact that she genuinely seemed to hold no grudge over whatever had happened had him convinced she was nuts.

And now this. The Undersiders. With all the attention the death of Lung had gotten, one might be forgiven for forgetting that killing him wasn't _all_ she'd done her first night out.

In a sense, it hadn't even been her most impressive accomplishment that night.

For all of Lung's power once he got going, at baseline, the level he was at when Silverheart had taken him down, he wasn't bulletproof. Capturing the "masters of escape," as low profile as they were, was an impressive feat all by itself, given how slippery they were. Doing so without hurting any of them after accidentally killing Lung demonstrated a level of self-control and quick thinking he had to admire.

He and Aegis were watching through a one-way mirror as the new girl interviewed the Undersiders. Apparently, on top of all sorts of Blaster, Changer, and Shaker powers, she had some Thinker ability to read people. It wasn't perfect, but it was very good.

Gallant watched, trying to puzzle through the emotions he was picking up as Silverheart and Tattletale stared at each other, neither saying a word. Fear. Puzzlement. Surprise. Annoyance. Curiousity. Fascination.

After a few minutes, Aegis leaned over and whispered, "What are they doing?"

"I'm... not sure," Gallant admitted.

Eagerness? Reluctance. Excitement? Agreement. Satisfaction.

Finally, Silverheart rose from her seat, nodded at Tattletale, and left the room. Gallant looked over at Aegis, and he could feel his team leader's puzzlement. All he could do was shrug. The door to the observation room opened, and they turned to greet Silverheart.

"So... what was that all about?" Gallant asked.

She shrugged. "She was hired at gunpoint, didn't really have much choice on the villain thing. She wants to switch sides, be a hero, but their boss has moles in the PRT. She tried to hide it, doesn't want to risk becoming a liability until we can assure her safety, but their boss is Coil. Keep her with a Ward or Protectorate member at all times, though, and she should be fine. I'll keep an eye on her; there are a few things she wants me to teach her."

"You got... all that?" Aegis asked, holding a finger up. "From just... staring at each other for, what, ten minutes?"

"She's a Thinker," Silverheart answered with a shrug. "I think she's actually better at reading people than I am, but she's not quite as good at hiding things."


	7. Lair 2-1

**Silver**  
 _Lair 2.1_

" _Lesser planar binding_."

Casting any sort of _planar binding_ spell without an appropriate _magic circle_ was considered by most to be an act of incredible foolhardiness or arrogance. The first rule of of extraplanar summoning: Thou shalt not call up that which thou art unable to put down.

There were a few who disagreed, myself among them. We had a different rule: Thou shalt not call up that which thou mayest need put down.

Or, in other words, don't summon something that might want to kill you, dummy. Seriously, what is _with_ people that call up demons or devils? Even _if_ the binding's successful, once it ends, you've made an enemy of a near-immortal being that can only be truly killed on its own native plane, where it has the home field advantage. How does that sound like a good idea?

Now, perhaps, this might not have been the most effective use of my time, but the problems we had communicating with that one Undersider without pissing her off made this seem worth it. Even Lisa had trouble translating for her at times.

Besides, it made for a good excuse to see a dear friend again.

The spell completed, he strode out of the summoning circle in his well-muscled glory.

Yum.

"Hello, old friend," I greeted.

Canine eyes scrutinized me for a long moment before his lips curled up into a rough approximation of a smile. "Eluithol, you look... different." I smiled at the rich baritone of his voice. Just like I remembered.

"Reincarnation," I explained. "It's been a long time, Presley." His use name was so much easier to pronounce than his true name. I paused and frowned as another stray thought passed through my mind. "Oh. Oh, _really_ , Presley? _This_ is where you spend your free time?"

He looked around, eyes wide. "Um, no?"

"I meant this material plane."

" _May_ be," he said. "Okay, fine. He was a good friend, until we had a falling out, so when he passed on, I figured I'd take his name as my use name in homage."

I shook my head. "Whatever. Come on, Pres. There's someone I want you to meet." I waved him to follow. "She's had a rough life and has trouble relating to people. Call it a hunch, but I think you might have better luck talking to her than the rest of us."

* * *

A/N: Presley here is a hound archon. I don't need to explain the rest of the joke, do I?


	8. Lair 2-2

**Silver**  
 _Lair 2.2_

I was with Lisa, watching Presley talk to Rachel - they were really hitting it off - when explosions began ripping through the city. I hurried to the Wards ready room with Lisa and Presley in tow. While the director had tentatively agreed to allow Lisa to join the Wards, there was still the threat of Coil. Apparently, even though scrying for Coil frequently picked up her old colleague, Thomas Calvert, that wasn't sufficient evidence. And for those times I caught him in costume, she wasn't going to authorize a probationary Ward to go teleporting to a villain with unknown powers in an unknown location, even with backup. Not without more pressing reason, anyway.

Fooey.

When we arrived, most of the other Wards were already there. Aegis nodded to us in greeting, then did a double-take at Presley.

"I'm... sorry, but who are you?"

"Presley, Hound of Justice. Elu- _Silverheart_ summoned me to facilitate communication with the girl named Rachel Lindt."

Great. He was going into full pompous mode now.

"I... see," Aegis said, giving me a Look. Damn it. "Well, this is Wards business, Pres- err, Hound, but... well, this is an all-hands thing, so you might as well listen in."

"For the cause of justice, I am ever at your service."

Yep. Definitely full pompous mode.

"Riiight." Aegis nodded slowly, giving me another Look. "Okay, listen up!" he called out. "There have been a series of bombings throughout the city, many with exotic effects. This matches the MO of Bakuda, a Tinker and new recruit to the ABB. This is probably retaliation for what happened to Lung. The Protectorate wants us mobilized to help with search and rescue. As always, volunteers only."

The Wards program's actual mandate was "to provide a safe and friendly environment and support network for young parahumans to learn to control their powers," so patrols and actual hero work were technically optional. Technically. It wasn't like a Ward could just refuse to go on a scheduled patrol, but we could opt out of the patrol schedule entirely, but that meant boring training exercises instead. Emergency calls like this were always "volunteer only," restricted to those who opted into the patrol schedule, but in practice, everyone volunteered.

Today was no exception. Presley also volunteered to help. Aegis worked out teams and assignments... then came to me.

"I'm sorry, Silverheart, but-"

"Someone's got to stay here, hold the fort, and make sure Lisa doesn't get assassinated, I know," I finished for him with a sigh.

Well, at least that meant Lisa and I could get back to her studies of arcane theory.

* * *

The building shook.

Lisa looked up. "That's... not good."

" _Mage's magnificent mansion_."

"Wha- hey-!"

On the off-chance that this was Coil, I grabbed Lisa and shoved her into the pocket dimension before heading down to see what was causing the ruckus. Stepping past the bodies of PRT officers, I tracked the bulk of the noise down to the parahuman holding cells... which suggested it actually might be Coil after all.

There was only one person in the holding cells right now: Rachel. The director had wanted to just throw her in prison, but Lisa just _happened_ to mention the circumstances of her trigger in earshot of some of the Wards and Protectorate, including myself and Miss Militia specifically. The "murder" she was wanted for was nothing of the sort. The girl needed help, not a prison cell. It's why I'd brought in Presley.

Of the other villains that had been brought in, Lung was in the morgue, Grue and Regent had cut deals and been shipped out to some other city, and Lisa spent her nights out at the rig under Protectorate protection. But if Coil didn't _know_ that, the holding cells would be his logical target.

So I was a little surprised when I got to the security station. The security station was a fairly large, round desk with control panels that operated the individual holding cells. A Brute-rated vault door separated the cell block from the security station. It and the individual cell doors had reverse magnetic locking mechanisms that used electromagnets to unlock them and would actually lock mechanically if the mechanism was damaged or lost power. Said mechanisms were sealed and insulated, designed to self-destruct (thus locking the doors) if their casings were damaged. Of course, automated containment foam sprayers and other defense mechanism were also installed.

I... may have studied the setup. You know, just in case.

What surprised was who I found, a woman in a gas mask with a grenade launcher, bent over one of the the security desk's monitors, the bodies of several PRT officers lying motionless on the ground. Bakuda. As I stepped in, she straightened upright and snapped her grenade launcher up, pointing it at me.

"Where's Lung?!" she demanded.

I blinked. Apparently, not everyone had gotten the memo that Lung was dead. I probably should correct that.

"He's in the morgue," I answered. "I killed him."

She scoffed. "You? Kill _Lung?_ Don't make me laugh, girl. You're a _Ward_. They wouldn't let you. I doubt you've ever killed anyone in your life."

Well. That was insulting. The room was big enough. Why not?

For that matter, why hold back?

" _Form of the dragon III_."

As I crafted the spell to call upon the bloodline running through my veins, my body grew and shifted, silvery scales glittering in the light. I pulled my head back, my sinuous neck twisting so I could keep watch on her. New, reptilian eyes looked down upon the ABB Tinker as the grenade launcher hung loose in her slack grip, and I flared my _frightful presence_.

"I am a dragon. Your argument is invalid."


	9. Lair 2-3

**Silver**  
 _Lair 2.3_

Bakuda was obviously shaken, but that didn't stop her from using her grenade launcher. The projectile flew in a high arc; my head snapped up, and I exhaled, freezing the grenade, which shattered harmlessly as it hit me. Huh. Surprised that worked, really. When I looked down, however, she was already scurrying away, through the now-open vault door, and I could see all the cell doors were open too. I guess she still didn't believe me about Lung.

I carefully maneuvering around the security desk in order to purs- damn it.

The holding cells were designed to accommodate Brutes, and some of them got pretty big even without having an active power. That didn't mean the hallway leading to the holding cells were big enough for a dragon my current size. I... had not thought this through properly.

I had to at least slow her down somehow, figure out a way to stop her, and Director Piggot would probably be pretty upset if I killed someone by accident. Again. Or on purpose, for that matter. As I pondered the problem, I felt my mind shift into Adventurer Mode. Like all adventurers in my past life, during combat, my mind sometimes accelerated, letting me weigh different options, guess at the odds of success, and commit to one in a matter of seconds. It never took more than six seconds to decide on a plan of action. In this case, though, the decision was easy.

When in doubt, throw a spell at it.

" _Black tentacles_."

I targeted the hallway just ahead of her, and she skidded to a halt. "Tentacles?" she said, shaking her head. "No. Not just no, but _fuck_ no. I'm a college age Asian girl. I know how _that_ ends." She turned to face me, braced the grenade launcher against her shoulder...

...and slumped down when Rachel cold-cocked her.

"What's going on?" she asked, giving me a surly glare.

* * *

When all was said and done, it looked like Bakuda had ordered Oni Lee to set up the bombing campaign as a distraction to draw the heroes and PRT away from PRT HQ so she could rescue Lung, and she herself had refrained from lethal force in case she needed hostages. It was a pretty vicious bombing campaign, but Oni Lee had apparently chosen to prioritize visibility over casualties. He had also apparently decided that it would be useful to attack the Empire 88 at the same time, so most of the actual casualties were Empire.

Eh. Nazis. Fuck 'em. The whole racial superiority thing was nonsense enough even when high elves were saying it, and they actually had some evidence to back it up. Besides, for all their arrogance, they never used their "superiority" as an excuse to hurt people. I'd compare Nazis to orcs or drow... but I wouldn't want to insult any good orcs or drow. Maybe kobolds. Yeah, let's go with kobolds. Even the good ones I'd met couldn't stop talking about the "inherent superiority" of their supposed draconic ancestry. At least until I deflated their egos by demonstrating my own draconic bloodline.

...

Where was I? Right. The bombing spree. When all was said and done, there had been only one real casualty on the heroes' side, but it had an exponential effect on the efforts to treat the injured.

That evening, I approached the glass statue that had once been Glory Girl. Panacea was kneeling in a crumpled pile next to her sister, and it looked like she'd fallen a sleep.

I pulled out my athame. It was a simple dagger, really, bought from a specialty store downtown shortly after the locker.

Panacea twitched and looked at me, rising to her feet and stepping between me and her sister. "Who are you?" she demanded, her tear-streaked face daring me to come closer. "What are you doing here?"

I blinked. Hmm. This probably looked pretty bad, what with me holding a dagger and all.

"I'm the new Ward, Silverheart," I said. "I think I can help your sister."

I'd used this to restore someone who had been turned to stone, after all. Glass shouldn't be any more difficult. I still wished I had a good diamond for this though.

"With a knife?" she asked skeptically.

"Not to use on her," I said, shaking my head. "Please, let me try."

"A-all right," she said hesitantly. She only stepped aside slightly; if I tried anything, she'd be able to block me.

I slashed my wrist.

" _Blood money_." I felt my strength drain as my blood drained out, shaped by magic into a short-lived diamond. " _Limited wish_."

"What are you _doing?!_ " Panacea demanded as she practically bowled me over. Straddling me, she grabbed my arm, and I could feel the injury closing. Kind of pointless; the _blood money_ spell would have stopped the bleeding in a moment anyway, but it wasn't like she knew that.

"Ames?"

Panacea froze, then turned. "V-Vicky?" She didn't wait for an answer, her head whipping back around to look at me. "Did you do that?"

"Uh, yeah." I nodded.

She pulled me into a hug with surprising strength. "Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Well, well, so _that's_ why you kept trying to avoid those dates I set you up on, Ames. You could have just said so."

Panacea froze. "Eep!" she eeped and leaped off me fast enough to qualify for a Mover rating. "This- this isn't what it looks like!"

"Suuure it isn't," Glory Girl teased, a sly grin on her face. Then she frowned, looking up. "When did it get dark, anyway?" She shook her head. "Never mind. Is everyone all right?"

* * *

A/N: Like in D&D, one combat round in Pathfinder is six seconds. It's not generally practical for DMs to enforce six-second decision-making on players for two reasons: first, the need to check with the DM on details that would be obvious to the characters but may not be to the players, and second, because players announce and resolve their turns sequentially. The natural consequence of this, of course, is that players generally have a _lot_ more time to think over what to do each round than the six seconds their characters have.


	10. Interlude 2A - The Yuan-ti

**Silver**  
 _Interlude 2A - The Yuan-ti_

Thomas Calvert was not having a good week. Things had been progressing rather well the past few months, but things had taken a sharp turn for the worse when the Undersiders had been captured. He still wasn't sure what had happened that night; the information he'd gotten as he split the timelines had been... chaotic at best, contradictory at worst. They had been a useful cat's paw, and worse, Tattletale had been taken alive. The fact that there was an information blackout on them confirmed in his mind that Tattletale had turned on him.

And then Cauldron had chosen _then_ to call in their favor. The new Ward, Silverheart. They wanted him to use his power to provoke her and see what happened. Had it been at a less sensitive time, he might not have minded so much. And he wasn't even able to deliver, since no matter what he did, she seemed to vanish from the throwaway timeline as soon as he split it off.

It was frustrating.

The only good news was that he'd been able to use the ABB bombing spree to acquire his newest asset.

"Hello, Pet," he crooned. "What are the chances that something which will interfere with one of my plans occurs by tomorrow morning?" he asked.

"One hundred percent."

 _"One hun-"?_ He didn't get a chance to complete the thought when they appeared.

There were six of them. Silverheart in the middle, surrounded by Armsmaster, Assault and Battery, Velocity, and Triumph.

 _Oh, dear._

He tried to drop the timeline, except... _the wrong one disappeared._

"Fuck."

* * *

A/N: Coil's power is a form of precognition. It predicts which timeline he is going to drop and simulates that one while he lives out the timeline it predicts he is going to keep. _Mind blank_ \- which Taylor's been dedicating a spell slot to everyday, as any high-level caster would - kind of messed with that. It can't precog Silverheart, so in the throwaway timelines he intended to drop anyway, it's as if she doesn't exist, but in the case of Dinah's kidnapping, it predicted incorrectly which timeline he would drop; if Silverheart weren't around to "scry and rescue," he would have chosen to keep the "kidnap Dinah" timeline, but the choice itself had already made by his power based on incorrect information before he actually tried to do it.

However, _mind blank_ is limited solely to the person it is cast on. The key difference between when Coil's power predicted which timeline he would choose to drop and when Dinah predicted him having a bad day is that when Coil asked Dinah that question, the information from Taylor's scrying was already passed on to the Protectorate and PRT, who are not protected by _mind blank_. Dinah's power didn't predict Taylor teleporting a hero strike team right into his headquarters, but "something going wrong by tomorrow morning," which includes anything from the heroes busting down his door with an arrest warrant to his financial accounts being frozen while an investigation is conducted to a search warrant for his property - including where he hid his Coil base - being issued.

Once they had the information from Taylor's scrying, it was only a question of _how_ they were going to approach taking him down and rescuing Dinah, and any one of their options counts as "something going wrong" for him.


	11. Lair 2-4

**Silver**  
 _Lair 2.4_

There's just no pleasing some people. Director Piggot had given me an earful about Presley and not mentioning the whole _form of the dragon_ thing. There was also some talk about opening diplomatic relations or some such. I was just glad we'd finally taken Coil down so Lisa could join the Wards properly. With how Rachel helped take down Bakuda and Presley helping her reintegrate, well, things were looking up for the capes-formerly-known-as-the-Undersiders.

"Just one last thing, Silverheart."

"Yes?

"Where _is_ Miss Wilbourne right now?"

I blinked. "Oh. Um. Oops?"

* * *

By the time I dragged Lisa out of the _mage's magnificent mansion_ , she looked positively divine. And a little manic.

"That," she declared. "Is the best safe house. In the history. Of safe houses."

"Umm... thanks?"

"You two, wait here," she ordered before she marched off.

* * *

"Ninety-eight percent chance things will be better if I go with you."

* * *

"Silverheart," the director said after a long moment.

"Uhh, yes, ma'am?"

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"I..." I shrugged. "I don't know why she would be acting like this. The _mansion_ is actually pretty comfortable, and-"

I was interrupted by Lisa's return... with Battery, Miss Militia, Vicky, Amy - huh, hadn't realized they were still on site - Missy, Sophia, Rachel, and Dinah trailing behind her.

She pointed at the lingering portal and glared at the heroines. "Everyone. In. Now. You too, Director."

* * *

The _mansion_ 's servants set a grand table for everyone. No surprise, really, given the spell.

"Try the oranges," Lisa suggested helpfully.

"Your pocket dimension comes with _catering?_ " Missy asked, her voice riddled with disbelief.

"Well, yeah," I answered with a shrug. "Nine course spread, and the pantry comes with enough for over two hundred people, so dig in. Unless someone's got a power-induced appetite, we're not gonna run out."

Vicky, Rachel, Lisa, and Dinah were already happily digging in, but Amy seemed positively entranced over one of the servants, whose wrist she was holding. I noticed Sophia poking her food with a fork and absently reached over and slapped her wrist. It was rude. The three adults, however, looked far more reserved.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to partake of this... generous offer, Silverheart," the director said. "I'm afraid my... condition limits me to a strict diet regimen."

"Oh, that?" I waved it off and grabbed a knife. "Easy enough to fix. _Blood money_. _Limited wish_."

" _Will you stop doing that?!_ " Oh, it looked like Amy had come out of her stupor.

* * *

"And you can do this any time?" Vicky moaned two tables down from me as the near-transparent servant massaged her back. "Are you _sure_ we can't convince you to join New Wave?"

"It's not really much of a choice for me," I reminded her, wafting a cloud of steam away from my face, "and I do have limits on how often I can do this. Only ten times a day if I really push it."

We were in a spa room right now, and while the servants weren't particularly skilled at the whole massage thing, they were able to make do, two to each of us while the others kept the steam going and handled other miscellaneous tasks.

"I think," the director announced from the other end of the room, "I may be able to make some... _allowances_ for your behavior, considering that no one was harmed by your recent - unghh! - indiscretions."

"Mmmm!" That was Amy. She gave me a lazy look as she lay bonelessly on her massage table next to mine. "Marry me."

"Sorry." I chuckled. "Not into girls."

"Oh, fooey."

* * *

A/N: _Mage's magnificent mansion_ has a total volume equal to three 10-foot cubes per caster level (caster level 17 = 51,000 cubic feet or about 5,100 square feet, assuming a 10 foot ceiling) and explicitly comes furnished and stocked with enough food to serve a nine-course banquet to a dozen people per caster level (caster level 17 = nine-course banquet for 204 people).

It also specifically includes a number of near-transparent and perfectly obedient servants equal to twice the caster level (caster level 17 = 34 servants). These servants function like the _unseen servant_ spell, except they are visible and can travel anywhere within the pocket dimension. Per _unseen servant_ 's description, they can carry up to 20 lbs., drag up to 100 lbs., apply up to 20 lbs. of force, and make untrained skill checks of DC 10 or less. I figure that's enough to offer amateur grade massages.

Finally, I'm classifying Piggot's kidney problem as a disease in Pathfinder mechanics, which can be cured by _remove disease_ , a level 3 cleric spell. Although _remove disease_ operates at touch range, since _limited wish_ can duplicate a non-opposed cleric spell of level 5 or lower, bumping the range up to "the end of the table" isn't an issue.


	12. Kingdom 3-1

**Silver**  
 _Kingdom 3.1_

I was waiting for my patrol partner. I'd forgotten to check who I was scheduled to patrol with today, but it didn't really matter. I got along reasonably well with all the Wards. Well, mostly. Dean always seemed awkward around me for some reason, and Sophia acted like a spooked horse whenever we were alone together. Seriously, what was up with that? Did she not get that if I wanted her dead, she would be?

My thoughts wandered as I waited. I suppose Amy was right. Cutting myself with _blood money_ all the time was going to cause problems. If I wanted to do some of the _really_ high end things without crippling myself, I was going to have to see about expanding my budget. Diamonds don't exactly grow on trees, after all. Well, not on Earth-Bet, at least; I wouldn't rule it out on the Elemental Plane of Earth. If, you know, the Elemental Plane of Earth _had_ trees. The things I could do with a proper supply of material components... and that wasn't even considering item crafting.

Something to think about.

An unfamiliar figure sauntered in. I looked him over. His costume - a dark blue getup with with a diamond pattern stitched into it - left little to the imagination, but his build was a bit... excessive? He looked like the kind of guy who spent all day in the gym building muscles just to look good. Pass.

"Um, hello," he said, giving a wave. "I'm Browbeat."

"Silverheart," I said, nodding in greeting. "I don't think we've met?"

"I'm new," he answered. "My parents aren't too sure about this, so this is kind of a trial run."

"Ah," I said. "Good to know. Well, let's be off!"

An hour into our patrol, I was nearly bored to tears. Browbeat just didn't seem very sociable.

"Sooo, Browbeat," I said, breaking the silence, "what do you do for fun?"

He shrugged. "Gaming, mostly," he answered.

"What kind of games?" I asked, perking up a little. "Dice games? Card games?" Gods, I hoped he wasn't a video game geek like Uber and Leet. "Board games?"

"Not... exactly," he said hesitantly. "It's an Aleph import, actually. I guess with Scion, it never really got popular here on Earth-Bet like it did over there. Come to think of it," he mused, glancing at me speculatively, "I think you might like it."

"What's it called?" I prodded, my interest piqued.

"Ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons?"

I couldn't say that I had, but it certainly sounded interesting.

* * *

A/N: Let the meta flow!


End file.
